Whisper
by Gater101
Summary: OneShot. And it was those final moments, when her broken whisper was caught between the worlds that another part of his soul was torn in two. Bruce/Rachel.


Title: Whisper  
Summary: And it was those final moments, when her broken whisper was caught between the worlds that another part of his soul was torn in two.  
Characters: Bruce, Rachel & Alfred  
Pairing: Bruce/Rachel & Rachel/Harvey  
Rating: T  
Notes: This is not my best writing as it stands just now. I hope you enjoy it none the less.

"Bruce?"

Her voice was a quiet whisper, warm and welcomed and he smiled up to her as she hovered over his bed. In the last remnants of pale moonlight that the twilight offered, she seemed candescent as she reached down and brushed her fingers over his most recent bruise.

"I thought you'd left?" He murmured sleepily as he unconsciously leant into her hand, licking his lips as he sighed from deep in his throat.

"I couldn't," she whispered quietly as she kneeled on the edge of his bed, her knee resting against his aching hip. He looked up at her for a long moment, assessing and he wondered if Alfred had let her back in or if she truly hadn't left. "Not without saying goodbye," she smiled down at him, her hand stroking through the hair at his temple.

He sighed into her touch, closing his eyes against her dark, penetrating gaze. In the diaphanous glow, she seemed almost unearthly, her delicate features highlighted by the gentle rays and when he opened his eyes, he ached inside with need. Her gaze brought back memories of that night on the balcony, of their kiss before he turned himself in and he shuddered at the ferocity with which the memory shook.

Like then, he wanted to kiss her.

As he tugged her down, gentle but commanding, her lips parted before they met his and he held her there, reminding himself of the temptation she had been for most of his adult life. He made himself savour the feel of her lips grazing his, her warm breath pouring over his face as she leant over him, her eyes closed – waiting for him.

Always waiting for him.

He arched his neck the last few millimetres, meeting her lips hesitantly, experimentally. She was just like he remembered her to be. Sweet and warm, delicate and strong and he wrapped an arm around her waist, drawing her body against his.

"What about Harvey?" He asked as he drew back from her, his hand lingering in her hair as she tried to reclaim his lips with her own. He conceded for the briefest of moments, his self restraint vanishing under her whimsical touch. He groaned lightly as her fingers traced across his neck, her eyes darting from his eyes to his lips and he wanted nothing more than to draw her back to him and show her exactly what she had been doing to him for years. But he had to know she wouldn't regret it and he had to ask now because if she continued this, there would be no going back for him. "Rachel?"

She looked up to him and sighed, looking away from his eyes for a moment as she thought. He closed his eyes against the rejection he knew he was about to face.

"Nothing else matters here but you."

There was a beat in which he stared up to her, as they stared at one another and then he knew. He crushed her to him, his lips bruising against hers as he rolled them over, the sheet tangling between their bodies. He had to be close to her, had to feel her skin against his. His naked chest against her clothed one was not enough for him and roughly he pulled back, drawing her with him as he slid his hands under her blouse, feeling for the first time the skin there. She arched into him as his fingers danced across her back, lifting the silky material as he want. He could feel her shiver, could taste the goose pimples beneath his tongue as he feasted on the skin revealed to him. Her chest heaved against his hand as he stroked her skin, as his lips traced a fiery path across her breasts, flicking her already hard nipples through the silk of her bra.

"Rachel..." he groaned against her throat as she wrapped her legs around his waist, thrusting herself up to him and he gripped her hips, holding her for a moment before drawing back. He watched her as she bit her lip against his touch, as her hooded eyes battled to stay fixed on his as his fingers danced across her abdomen, and lower until,

"Bruce..." she managed airily, her hand rising to clutch at his arm and he dropped his forehead to hers, urging her to open her eyes. "Please..."

He unzipped her skirt and slid it slowly down her legs, watching as her eyes followed him, her fingers clutching at his hair.

"Rachel..."

He grazed her heat with his strong fingers and she bucked up against him, his name a raspy whisper in the quiet air around them. He smiled at that; it was a sound he had waited so long to hear and it was glorious.

He throbbed as her hand circled him, stroking him through his boxers and he groaned with her as he stroked her, his hand dipping beneath the satin material of her panties. She was driving him crazy with her ministrations, her lips tasting the skin she could reach and he plucked at a nipple with his finger as he lavished the other with his tongue, stroking her to a fiery frenzy neither could deny.

"Now, Bruce," she muttered against his ear, her voice throaty and filled with need. He twitched in her hand at that, her words echoing his thoughts and he groaned as he drew back from her, making quick work of her bra and panties as she helped him tug down his boxers. When he was above her again, poised to slide into her welcoming warmth, he hesitated, his eyes meeting hers questioningly. She stared back at him and he was stunned by the strength of her desire; her dark eyes were almost black, her lips parted and she gasped his name as he nudged against her warmth. "Bruce..."

And he couldn't resist any longer. Inside of her, he felt like he had come home. He moved experimentally, drawing moans of pleasure from both of their throats.

"Oh, God," he murmured against her ear as he continued to slide into her, moving fluidly with her body as she arched up to meet his thrusts, her head thrown back against the pillows in blissful awe, his name dragging out from her throat into the room around. Faster she urged him, her ankles locking around his butt, and he obliged, needing to feel himself deeper, closer. He drove on, encouraged by her calls into the night and her words came back to him as she clamped around him in ecstasy, his own release not far behind;

"_Nothing else matters here but you."_

And it didn't. All that mattered was Rachel and him and their joined bodies, panting along with one another into the cool air around them. He collapsed on top of her, languid and spent.

"I was going to marry Harvey," she told him quietly some minutes later. He lifted onto his elbows and looked down at her upturned face. She looked thoughtful, reminiscent and he felt that hitch in his chest again as he watched the emotions play across her face. "I would have."

He waited for a moment before sighing and brushing a tendril of sweat soaked hair from her face.

"But you didn't."

Eventually, she looked up and smiled at him, the girl he'd fallen in love with. He smiled back and for that moment, he could pretend that the last nine years of his life didn't exist; that Batman had never been. Her hand on his cheek drew him from his thoughts and he looked back down to her, smiling.

"I didn't."

"Why not?"

She smiled and brought his head down so she could claim his lips as her own.

"I told you I would wait for you."

--

He woke with a start, her quiet whisper a disappearing remnant of a world he would never know. Light pierced his eyes and he threw a hand over his face to hide from the mid-afternoon sun.

"It's time to get up, Master Wayne," Alfred said from above him and it took him a moment to register that Rachel was not beside him.

Disoriented, he sat up and looked around the room, to the bat suit strewn across the floor and he felt that deep hollow open up in his chest once again.

She was gone.

Both the dream and the reality.

He lifted a hand to cover his mouth as stubborn tears threatened the back of his eyes.

He thought he'd gotten used to the dreams but he'd been wrong. After three years, the pain was still as deep and new as it had been that first night after she'd died.

"The world is expecting you, Master Bruce," Alfred spoke again as Bruce threw himself back into the pillows, covering his face with his arms.

"Not today, Alfred," he muttered, hoping Alfred would understand.

"Yes, Master Wayne," Alfred said instead and Bruce peered out from under his arms and stared at the older man. "And every day until the end of them."

Bruce closed his eyes again as the pain attacked, anew.

"Not _today," _he reiterated and he heard Alfred's breath catch in his throat.

"She wouldn't want you like this." Bruce sat up again and stared at him, hoping the glare would deter the older man from continuing. But Alfred knew Bruce Wayne too well. "She may be dead but you're not."

"Alfred..." he warned but Alfred simply waved him off.

"Lucius is expecting you – as is the rest of the board," he continued as he left the room, clicking the door shut behind him.

Every year it was the same. She'd come to him in his sleep, her words echoing what he knew in his heart. She loved him but she was going to marry Harvey. It hurt, but he could deal with it.

It was just the waking that killed him.

Half a night's sleep filled with dreams of her was something he'd grown accustomed to, and he may even have grown to accept them – to welcome them.

But in those few disoriented moments of returning to the waking world, he felt his heart break all over again. Because she was gone and she was _never coming back_. Not to him, not to Dent – not to anyone.

And it was those final moments, when her broken whisper was caught between the worlds that another part of his soul was torn in two.


End file.
